The past few months have been awakening. Contextually speaking, it is a new life in the land of maple trees. Grasping the silent lessons that this world is giving I wandered into the neural pathways of the unapproving lot. Barbarism is not about ruthlessly hacking someone. It is a facade behind the civic screen. A kindness that kills you because you have surpassed a certain level of accomplishment. The ravines in your backyard are pacific to your evening strolls. It is the same place that breeds human beings who rob a woman of her valuable possessions. Mindful of the fact that I am a "Visible Minority" I sometimes step backwards. Something I am not used to. Yet I unlearn. The earth is divided by imaginary lines called longitudes and latitudes. I wish it would have ended there. Sadly there are so many of these imaginary lines in our minds that we know not what we are prejudiced against. The rise and fall of religions, empires, classes...is all part of the change that we resist but thrive on. Years ago, we had our answers in a deity,our guardians and on papers . Perhaps today it is Internet. Tomorrow answers may not matter. Or has it already ceased to matter? Whatever it maybe, this cloudy, rainy day has cooled the ground beneath me as it has my mind. So I get up and try to make it all begin, again!
Watching milk white fog Painted across the hills Tried to find a bridge Crossing a needy heart Squinted eyes hurt In search of water Gushing down far away Like tears of forlorn soldier The kind Sun stepped Bore the misty clouds Quenching his thirst He smiled upon the old man Diamonds drifted Like near heavens Of a love spectrum Bowing to ‘Pa His three telescopes Were no companions Two were dead sons But this one fed him
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